


Clumsy

by hexedharlot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:28:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexedharlot/pseuds/hexedharlot
Summary: Remus and I have done, er, "stuff" before, but I think I can handle more. Hell, I want more, I need more from him. The one thing I'm not sure of, however, is whether or not Remus would want to do anything more.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	Clumsy

"Hey Rem!" I whisper yell as I jump on his bed. He just groans like an idiot. The bitch could sleep through anything, it's a wonder how he ever wakes at all. "Remus," I whine into his ear, licking it. "Baby, Moony, Sweetheart, Love, Babe." At this, his eyes shoot open and his arms wrap around me tightly. He tickles me, nipping at my jaw playfully while I squeal at his every touch. He's unrelenting, making my body convulse from his manic pressure pointing, up until the point I fall off the bed.

He looks over the edge at me, eyes wide and panicked, mouth slightly parted, jaw no longer clenched in focus, checking me for injuries. I pout up at him, sucking my thumb angrily. 

"You're so clumsy, my sweet," he says. "Where's Prongs and Wormtail?"

"Old Jamie and good ol' Petey boy are in Divination, I thought I'd skive. Wanted to maybe sleep in with you, Moons." I smile at him beseechingly.

"Oh, fuck yeah," Remus grinds out, voice lowered and immensely sexy. He reaches down and pulls me up onto the red cotton bedsheets next to him. 

It's sometimes scary how strong he is. Looking at him, you'd think he might be mean, but I know better. Under his tan, scarred skin, his grumpy demeanor, his slumped posture, his muscled form, his great height - he's just a dumb boy, like any of the rest of us. No, he isn't as parental as James, and he isn't as soft spoken as Peter, nor is he as reckless as me, but he's smart, sarcastic, quick witted, resilient, cuddly, protective. And when I look at him, all I can think of is running my hands through his light brown curls, enveloped in the warmth of those grotesquely scarred arms, sipping cocoa together under James's cloak, watching the stars from the banks of the Black Lake. And I love him dearly.

"Padfoot? Are you in Never Land? I'm trying to get consent so I can kiss you, dumbshit." Remus waves his hand in front of my face, bringing me out of my thoughts of him.

"The fuck's Never Land, Rem? Are you asking about the Netherlands?" He just burts out laughing, telling me about how Peter had a pan and was flying with muggles or something. I kiss him to shut him up. 

Pulling my hair, he removes himself from the kiss, growling at me. Out of nowhere it seems I have a small monster trying to escape my boxers.

"So are we skiving, Siri?" He licks his lips at me and the pants monster grows even more impatient. Leaning into my ear, he whispers, "I think I want to take you up on your offer from earlier."

"W-what offer?" I stutter out, gasping as his fist tightens the grip he has on my hair.

"You said you wanted to sleep with me, Pads? Do you still want to? Does your offer still stand?"

"Yessir"

My words reach him immediately, and the effect of it is exquisite. He has me on my back, kissing me so hard I'm scrabbling for purchase dizzily, limbs flailing about as though I were slipping through the bed and falling freely through multiple floors.

His mouth is glorious, he is my god, and I am never leaving his bed. My mind is numb as sensations replace seconds, his hands groping incessantly along my torso. My hands are curled beneath his arms, wrapped around his shoulders, and when he pulls away I use my grip on him to prevent him from stealing any more of my oxygen, lest I pass out. 

"Fuck, Siri," is his concise opinion.

"Yes please," I huff up at him, running my hands down his sides and lifting his Abbey Road tee off him to reveal immensely scarred, perfect skin. He just looks at me searchingly, brow furrowed while he makes his decision, which just so happens to be pulling off my boxers.

Leaning in, he licks from my hip to my navel in one slow, decisive stroke of the tongue. My hands find their way to his scalp, gripping his hair and squirming under his relentless tasting, overstimulating me to the point I'm keening loudly and moaning a jumble of words that occasionally sounds like a poor impression of his name. Oddly enough, he refuses to touch what I know is his end goal, and by the time his wet kisses finally go up the length of my cock, I'm leaking considerable amounts of precome onto my stomach while my eyes roll to the back of my head, despite my eyelids being clamped firmly shut.

He stops touching me for seemingly no reason, and that's bad. I look down to see his eyes glazed over with lust, giving me a sympathetic, yet nervous, look.

"We don't have to do this if you're not ready, babe," rushes out of his mouth and my cock twitches, his voice is just so damn hot holy shit.

"Please," is the best response I can manage.

His hands cup my thighs and reveal me in my entirety to him. I feel vulnerable, but for once it's welcomed. He won't hurt me, no matter what, and I relish the amount of trust I'm allowing myself to place in him. His tongue finds my arsehole and - as per usual - it's a glorious feeling, casuing me to scrunch the sheets up in my fisted hands. 

Nothing matters now, nothing but my beautiful boy Remus. He's my whole entire world, running shaky hands across my chest. He's all I care about, loosening me with his fingers. He's all I could ever wish for, biting into my thigh. He's all I see in my future, sucking gently on my balls, stretching me gently yet relentlessly.

He sits up and back once I'm stretched good and proper, guiding me onto his lap, pulling off my shirt while I pull down his boxers. Our lips lock yet again, and I sit on his lower stomach, his prick situated between my arsecheeks. His hands rake my sides gently as I suck his tongue greedily.

"Sirius, I- Are you sure you're ready? I don't want to push you or anything," his voice comes out in breathy little gasps against my neck.

"Yes, of course, Rem. I want you so bad, you dork." This seemed to reassure him enough - he leans forward, laying me on my back yet again, lining himself up.

He presses forward gingerly and the head breaches loosened muscle. All I can do is gasp, and Remus does too. Slowly, inch by inch, he plants himself firmly inside me. We're both stifling our sounds - I can't help, however, digging my nails into his shoulders - almost as though if we were to break the silence we would be breaking the bond between us.

It's an odd sense of fullness, having someone's cock buried inside you. For some it may simply be for pleasure, for a temporary release of endorphins and dopamine - enough to make you dizzy. For us this was not the case. We were so intimately entwined with one another emotionally, intellectually, but joining physically was simply the next step. Sitting there, legs tangled and arms wrapped tightly, we had never been closer.

Then he started moving.

Sparks of pleasure burst up my spine, the colors of the dorm became brighter. Sweat dripped off Remus' chin and onto my collarbones. The world was muffled and it was all I wanted was to fill it with noise again. We moaned, I whimpered, he growled, I sobbed.

"Fuck, Siri - so tight," Remus can't seem to articulate. "You're doing so good, babe. I love you so much." And with that, he kissed me again, thrusting into me with such ferocity that I felt as though I were less than nothing. But he treated me like I was everything to him.

Nails breaking the skin on his sweaty, muscled shoulders, back arching off the bed, I came all over our chests, clenching around Moonys cock while he painted me white from the inside out. He falls forward onto my chest, slipping off and chuckling breathlessly.

"Who's the clumsy one now, Rem?"

"Still you," he replies, showing me his shoulders that are now dripping with blood. "Can't go to Pomfrey with these, huh?" He thinks aloud. "She'd ask questions."

"Sorry, Moons," I reply quickly, but he just chuckles again.

"I'm glad to have a scar from a different canine this time round"


End file.
